


Soapsuds and Scars

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Drama, Ficlet, Friendship, Hogwarts Era, Second War with Voldemort, The Quidditch Pitch: From Diagon Alley to Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-13
Updated: 2009-01-13
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:50:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Ron has a most unexpected conversation with Draco Malfoy of all people.





	Soapsuds and Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Ficlet requested by Duskspoken, who asked for Ron/Draco in the prefect's bath. Closer to gen than pre-slash, but could be read either way.

One of the best things about being a prefect, in Ron’s opinion, was the prefect’s bath. It was huge, it was tiled, it had hot water that never ran out and enough scented soaps and oils to keep Madame Primpernelle’s in business for centuries to come. Not all of it was girly, flowery-smelling stuff, either. There was oakmoss and pine, rosemary and ocean breezes. Best of all, Ron didn’t have to share, something he considered the best luxury of all after growing up with six siblings.

Sliding into the gently steaming water, Ron let out a blissful sigh, watching the Snitch-shaped bubbles corkscrew and dart across the bath’s surface, ignoring the flirtatious winks of the stained-glass mermaid in the window. Only when he felt his fingers and toes begin to tighten and wrinkle did he take a breath and dunk his head under the water.

Surfacing, Ron scraped wet hair from his eyes, and blinked, frowning. Someone else had entered the bath and was in the process of undressing. Hunkering down until only his head remained above the water, partially obscured by masses of whirling Snitch-bubbles, Ron squinted at the newcomer and muttered a curse under his breath. Of course his bathing companion wouldn’t be the likes of Anthony Goldstein or Ernie Macmillan, oh no.

Of course it would be Draco sodding Malfoy who would decide to take a bath the same time as Ron. He debated staying where he was, partially hidden by flittering soap suds and biding his time until Malfoy left, but with his current turn of luck Draco had come here for a long soak as Ron had done rather than a quick wash. Girding himself mentally for one of Malfoy’s insults, he stood to his full height just as Malfoy finished pulling off his robes.

And stared.

Ron couldn’t help it. He’d heard the story from Harry, of course. He’d known about the spell Harry had cast and what it had done, and sympathised over the subsequent detentions Harry now had to serve with Snape. He’d thought Harry had been exaggerating when he said he’d nearly killed Malfoy. Seeing the scar slashing across the other boy’s chest, pink and raw, he knew now it hadn’t been exaggeration. Seeing it, he was amazed Harry hadn’t been expelled.

Malfoy glanced up sharply upon hearing the slosh of water, eyes narrowing as he recognised his uninvited bathing companion.

“Disappointed, Weasley?” he asked, his voice clipped and cold, completely unlike the mocking drawl Ron was accustomed to. “Wishing Potter had finished the job?”

Ron blinked, blurting out “No!” before he could help it, shocked into honesty.

Malfoy’s brows lifted, disbelieving, and finished undressing quickly before joining Ron in the water, letting out a low hiss at the water temperature. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back, seemingly dismissing Ron’s presence.

Ron finished washing up, soaping and rinsing his hair in a matter of minutes and bypassing washing behind his ears. It wasn’t as though anyone would notice if he skipped a day, and he was supposed to meet with Neville shortly for help with his Herbology assignment. Neville definitely wouldn’t notice dirty ears, considering the other boy almost always had dirt under his nails and around his cuticles.

Malfoy didn’t say anything, and for a moment Ron thought he might have actually fallen asleep in the warm water. Moving quietly, he reached for a towel, eager to get out, get dressed, and leave the other prefect to his soak. Lifting himself out of the pool, he froze when Malfoy asked, “What of yours?”

“What of what?” Ron asked, glancing over his shoulder. Quickly, he seized a towel and wrapped it around his hips, ignoring the water dripping from his hair and down his chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Your _scars_ , Weasley.” Malfoy cracked open one grey eye, gaze going to the white lines circling Ron’s arms. “You know of mine, and now I want to know how you got _those_. Did Longbottom have to rescue you from one of those greenhouse monstrosities Sprout insists on keeping?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” Ron snapped, biting off each word, and Malfoy’s brows lifted again.

“Touchy, aren’t we?”

Glaring, Ron retorted, “I got them last year at the Ministry, if you must know.” He just wished he remembered more about how they got there. He’d been under the influence of some kind of Befuddlement charm, and there had been a room filled with brains, and he’d only wanted to look at one and it had attacked him, and now he had scars looping around both arms. “Some room with attacking brains. Knocked me out of the fight.”

“You were felled by brains.” Malfoy’s lips twitched, and then he was laughing, laughing so hard his head slipped beneath the water. He surfaced spluttering, still laughing. “Oh, how fitting! I’m surprised Potter and Longbottom weren’t knocked out by them as well!”

Ron grabbed another towel, rubbing it furiously over his hair and down his chest. Once the excess water was gone he pulled his shirt over his head, arms sliding into the sleeves. “I only meant to say I deserved theses about as much as you deserved yours.” Which was to say, not much.

Malfoy’s laughter cut off as suddenly as it had begun, watching Ron thoughtfully as he dressed. “You don’t think Potter’s right all the time?” he asked softly. “You, his faithful lap weasel? I’m shocked.”

“Don’t be.” Ron laced up his trainers and straightened, running his fingers through still-damp hair. “I don’t think he’s right all the time, but I know his heart’s in the right place and he means well, which is more than I can say about You Know Who. You might want to think about that while you’re having your soak.”

Gathering his things, Ron left the prefect’s bath, aware Malfoy watched the entire time until the door closed behind him.

* * *


End file.
